


Runs In The Family

by BoPeepWithNoSheep



Series: Runs In The Family [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Balance (Podcast)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, Gaslighting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Johan (The Adventure Zone) Should Be Spelled Johann, Johann and Angus in Wonderland, Pre-Episode: e051-057 The Suffering Game Parts 1-7, Reincarnation, Wonderland, johann is keats' reincarnated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoPeepWithNoSheep/pseuds/BoPeepWithNoSheep
Summary: Johann and Angus have a bad time at the necromatic family reunion.





	1. Misery Business

Johann is the first one to notice Angus is missing. Mostly, it’s because he’s the one Angus was out on an errand for. The kid still takes jobs on occasion, so trips down to the surface are pretty standard for him. As far as Johann’s been able to tell, Angus never really minds if his co-workers give him a few requests as long as they’re small things that won’t interfere too much with his cases.

Some violin strings and a bit of rosin doesn’t make too troublesome of a list so Angus agrees readily in exchange for a few music lessons. Apparently, the kid wants to learn to play the piano. It’s not really Johann’s exact deal but he knows enough to get the boy started.

Angus never shows up for his first lesson.

Johann, well, he panics a bit--because Angus is just a kid and he gets himself into all these dangerous situations. Normally when he does he at least takes his stone of farspeech but when Johann calls all he gets is some kind of horrifying technopop elevator music.

Frankly, it’s unnerving as hell.

Johann writes a note for the Director, digs out his stash of recorded sick day compositions and leaves them tucked neatly on his desk. He says goodbye to the Voidfish, because it’s polite and honestly the thing seems kind of...sad when he’s writing his letter. Besides, ever since the duet he’s been trying to talk more with it, telling it where he’s going seems like a good plan.

“Okay, well, I’ll be back soon.”

A string of three notes wring through the air,  _‘ **B-A-D’** _  

Johann frowns, “It won’t be bad. I’ll be back in like a few days, maybe a week. I left you some snacks with the Director.”

The three notes repeat, resounding through the room, almost overbearing but Johann shakes his head, “Listen I--I’m the one who sent him down there, like, I’ve just gotta go get him. He probably got kidnapped by some biker gang or shitty politicians for finding out they’re all guilty of fantasy tax evasion.”

**_‘B-A-D’_ **

Johann rolls his eyes, “Listen, you’re like--You’re a big fish, you’re not my mom.”

**_‘B-A-B-E’_ **

Johann’s cheeks burn, even the Voidfish is making fun of him, it’s not _his_ fault he was the youngest member of the bureau until Angus had come around. He lets out a huff and turns from the tank, collecting the rest of his instruments. He’s taking his violin, his harp, and just in case he needs something discreet a kalimba that fits right in the palm of his hand. He puts on his traveling garb, which is really just a less distinctly blue version of his regular clothes but that doesn’t matter that much. He replaces the blue and white feather in his hat with a slightly less eye-catching brown one. He’s still recognizably a bard, but now he looks more like a traveling bard looking for a job than a gainfully employed one.Which isn’t much of a surprise in this economy.

 

 

Johann isn’t much of a detective but it’s strangely easy to ask around for Angus.

He’s a distinctive kid and folks generally remember overdressed little boys who ask too many questions. For a little bit he just follows word of mouth, from Neverwinter towards Phandalin, apparently, he’d been hired by some elves to look into a series of missing persons cases. Something deep in his chest warms the further he goes and the leads stay consistent so he follows his gut. It seems like something Angus would encourage, they’d talked on length once how important instincts were to detectives and musicians.

Then he’s told Angus had wandered into the woods and it makes Johann’s chest  _twist_ \--He knows where people go missing in the Felicity Wilds.

The walk isn’t treacherous, not when he can cast sleep or charm monster with a whistle. It is, however, _unnerving_. There are stories, tiny whispers about Wonderland among the members of the bureau who had been there for the early years. Back before the moon base was finished, when Lucretia was handpicking her first members. Johann had been one of the last members of the original crew, a scruffy street rat with a fiddle missing strings.

Wonderland is--well, it’s something. Johann isn’t really sure what the hell sort of energy radiates off of it, but he spots Angus’ face, bright and smiling on a billboard. He readies his violin beneath his chin and stares up at the little plaque above the door.

He walks into inky blackness.  


It’s so dark as Johann struggles to look around, his bow held at the ready in case of attackers. He has no idea what to actually expect in Wonderland, all he knows is that whatever it is must be _bad_ since the Director had banned any and all seekers from exploring it for relic leads years ago. Wreathed in darkness was kind of his first guess about the big spooky circus tent but before he can move to examine his surrounding a sudden blast of bass explodes from the walls.

Johann shrieks, nearly dropping his violin.

Strobe lights quickly join the fast tempo, Johann watches mesmerized at the stage that grows up and out of the ground. Without thinking his bow arm moves, a melodic counterpoint to the pulsating techno beat. There’s a thrumming in his chest, it pulses to the rhythm and moves a strange sensation through his limbs following his veins. Two elves appear on stage and Johann’s heart freezes but his hands keep moving.

It’s like the Voidfish but where that trance had been exhilarating, filled with love and joy now terror fills Johann’s mind as the elves saunter down the catwalk, hitting beat after beat in a flurry of clever limbs and uncanny synchronization. Johann too is somehow in sync with them, for every twirl plucks strings with a flourish, each dip and click is accompanied by a swaying bariolage.

Panic seizes his heart but not his limbs. With elegant movements, he only ever seems to possess within the thrall of music he matches the elves on the stage. The approach, lights flashing and suddenly the music stops and so does he. His arms give way and his violin drops. Before it can clatter to the ground Johann blinks and a slender figure somehow appears at his side, catching his instrument before it can crash against the multicolored floor.

“Well, well, usually we’re the main performance here but that was just _wonderful_ , wasn’t it?”

Johann is shaking, his face cradled in his hands as he tries to rid himself of the buzzing in his chest. Not like performance butterflies--He doesn’t _get_ performance butterflies. There’s magic in him, dark magic pulsing above his heart that nearly overwhelms him until he kneels and presses both hands to his chest.

“What--What’s _happening_ to me?”

The elves are next to him again, the buzzing eases and so does the tenseness in his limbs. They bracket him front and back. The male elf tuts from behind him, “You know, people don’t usually have reactions like this until _after_ they’ve started their game. You must be a particularly _sensitive_ _soul_.”

Johann lets out a shuddering breath, without thinking he leans back resting against the elven man. The female elf releases a chuckle, “Oh, you’re a trusting one, aren’t you?”

Johann groans this time, he needs--Contact? He’s not sure, but leaning against the elf makes the whirling shadows in his heart subside for just a moment. His head feels muddled, like there’s something tugging on either side of his mind and spinning it like a toddler in an office chair. He reaches up and covers his eyes, hoping that if he can just block out the strobing lights something in his brain will _settle_.

“Ah-ah-ah, Sweetheart. You need to look at us when we talk to you, it's only _polite_.” The elven woman lays her hands over Johann’s and all at once he feels a terrible icy chill. The woman is not gentle as she bats them away and one slender finger tilts his chin up just enough that his hair falls out of his face. Johann opens his eyes just as the woman gasps, one slender finger shifts to an ironclad grip as she yanks so hard that the feather dislodges from his hat. Johann’s eyes stray as he watches it float down to the floor.

A voice, frantic and filled with hesitant joy flows from the woman’s mouth but Johann can’t focus on it, “Is--Is it really you? It worked! Our spell worked!”

Suddenly the presence behind his back vanishes and Johann yelps as he falls back. Strong, cold arms catch him, now the male elf is in his face. Icy hands trace his cheekbones, his nose, his ears, “Keats! Keats, _look at you_ , you’re all grown up!”

“Who’s Keats?” He slurs as darkness fills his vision, “M-My name is Johann.”


	2. Sugar, We're Going Down

“The spell we used on you, to get you back from the astral plane, it was supposed to ‘give you new life’ a standard claim for a resurrection spell.” Lydia’s fingers brush affectionately through his curls, as Johann eases into consciousness. Wherever he is, it’s soft but so cold. When he whimpers--his head is _aching_ \--he can see his breath.

“Guess we didn't pay enough attention to the fine print, it was all in abyssal anyway,” She chuckles softly, eyes looking far away. Johann’s not sure if she realizes he’s awake, but if she doesn’t that’s better for him, isn’t it? He can take a minute to try and figure out what the fuck is going on. Her nails rake softly against his scalp, the way someone would pet a dog. Without much input from his sense of logic, his body relaxes into the touch, it isn't the worst sensation in the world. He doesn't know how he feels about how quickly he decides that. He lets his eyes flutter back shut, which is nice anyway if only for the dark, and listens to Lydia monologue, “If we’d known we just had to wait a few centuries we wouldn't have bothered with the new boy! I suppose it’s a good thing though, summoning your soul to possess that body is what brought you here!”

Just like that, Johann can no longer pretend to be asleep. He ignores the sharp pain in his temples and pushes himself up, “Angus! You have Angus!” 

“Oh, you _know_ each other? _Interesting._ ” 

Her smile is sharper than a razor’s edge and Johann trembles under the full weight of her keen gaze, “Baby brother, what’s the little detective to you?” Her hand is still loosely grasping at his curls and the grip tightens just enough to still him instantly. She tugs his hair, tilting his head up so he’s forced to make eye contact, what he sees steals the breath from his lungs. 

Mismatched eyes, the same that Johann sees in the mirror every day but undeniably different, older and so _cold_. There’s warmth in her face, in the corner of her mouth and the crease in her brow but her eyes are void of something fundamental that Johann can’t quite identify. They’re familiar--painfully familiar--but they’re _wrong_. 

“H-He’s my friend.” Johann manages to stammer, voice wavering uncertainty--Was that the answer she wanted? 

“Keats, sweetie you’ve made a friend? How adorable. Well, that _changes_ things I suppose.” With a rough tug, Johann’s head is back in her lap and her nails prick precariously against the base of his neck. With her free hand Lydia snaps and the whole room changes, he’s still laying down but now he can clearly see where he is a brightly colored chaise lounge. Lydia’s sits perfectly upright but he lays prone, his head against her thigh. 

The thought, _She’s always like a proper lady_ , comes unbidden and unwelcome from somewhere. 

“Edward! You’ve still got our little blood bag? Don’t tell me you’ve already thrown him away, that’s going to complicate things just a smidge.”

The room shifts further, one moment two figures, one tall and one short, are off in the distance and the next the floor unsettles. Johann wants to turn his head and throw up but he’s terrified of breaking Lydia’s grip.

Lydia-- _She never told him her name_ \--He shouldn’t know her name.

“JOHANN!” 

The name, gods his name from the mouth of his missing friend, breaks him from his stupor and without considering the wrath of his--of Lydia, Johann is stumbling onto his feet. “Angus!” Feet clatter against bright tiles but before he can make it close enough to touch Angus Edward is there. His hands ghost over Johann’s shoulders and bring the half-elf to a staggering halt. “Keats! What are you doing here, you’re still not well. Lydia, he should be _resting_.” 

Under Edward’s stare, he can barely breath--but Angus is so close, and trying to get a better look at him Johann can’t help but panic. There’s blood on him, all over him, despite that his clothes are intact--albeit a far stranger style than he’s ever seen the boy wear. Stranger yet, the closer he gets to Angus the brighter a medallion on the boy’s neck flashes, it draws Johann’s eye almost immediately once his cursory observation is over. 

Staring at it, Johann feels a _pull_ deep in his chest and his knees give out. Cold, bony arms catch him before he can tumble to the ground. Edward’s voice comes out sickly sweet with a bite of irritation, “Dia-darling, Keats is _unwell_ , you said you’d watch him while I tidied up.” 

“Eddie-darling, that’s Keats’ _friend_.” 

There’s a silent conversation going on, Johann recognizes the signs and resigns himself to that unknown aspect as he tries to recover his wits. Creepy amulet bad, first off. He manages to loll his head enough to chance a better look at Angus, who’s suddenly silent and banging against what _looks_ like a glass box. Johann sees his mouth open in a silent scream but hears nothing, not even a heartbeat from the chest his head lays against.

He can feel Edward tense, “Oh! How exciting, Keats!” The elven man taps his foot twice and a chair appears in a swirl of black smoke. With surprising care, he sets Johann down, running a hand through the half-elf’s hair before stepping back towards Angus in the box. His hand reaches through as if there were no barrier at all despite Angus’ continued efforts to escape. 

Edward snatches the necklace from the boy's neck with a near flourish, yanking his hand back before the Angus can grab for him. “Little Angus here is going to spend a little time in timeout for being a bit naughty, but in the meantime, we’ll just take care of this silly little accessory.” 

“What--What is that--It’s _pulling_ me.” It hard to speak, let alone breath--The dark energy is back, thrumming through his limbs stronger than ever. He wants to--He _needs_ to touch that necklace but he also needs to get Angus and get the fuck out of this place. If his legs would just work it would be easier but they won’t so instead he purses his lips, ready to loose a spell with a trill. 

Greater restoration should work, get rid of this lethargy and hopefully get Angus back in full health if he’s lost any. The tune he whistles is quick and dirty, none of his normal artistry and more than a touch desperate. It’s barely more than a solfege scale, if he was thinking properly he'd kick himself for something so sloppy. The moment the melody drifts into the world Lydia and Edward are turning on him with wide, concerned eyes.

“Keats, no!” 

 _Pain_ \--Pain overwhelms him and he topples out of his chair, screaming and thrashing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No healing in wonderland, folks.


	3. Silver and Cold

Johann comes to for the umpteenth time that day, if it is the same day, honestly he can’t actually be positive. For a minute he thinks the whole thing has been a massive nightmare because he’s waking up in a bed. However, it’s not his barracks on the moonbase, for one he can’t hear Brad’s snoring and there’s no wind whistling from the window he always kept cracked. 

The sheets are soft, the blankets softer, but everything is  _ freezing _ _._ Johann groans as he curls in on himself for warmth, “What the  _ fuck _ ?” 

A startled gasp meets his ears and suddenly there’s a weight on his chest and Johann panics. His eyes fly open, his hand reaches to his waist to grab his harp but finds nothing the exact same moment it registers just who is in his face. 

“Angus!” 

“Sir! You’re okay! I thought they hurt you!” 

The boy’s still covered in blood, which is alarming, to say the least, but now that Johann’s looking at him up close he doesn’t _ look  _ injured. It doesn’t stop Johann from reaching out and patting the boy down, “What the fuck, Angus? You just disappeared and I tracked you down to this freakshow and you’re covered in blood, like holy shit what creepy secret cult did you piss off?” 

Angus looks like he’s trying to hold himself together as he speaks, his hands shake before they reach out but hesitates. His hands finally settle into hugging around his own form, hunching slightly and bumping his head against Johann’s arm. 

“I-I was hired by a woman looking for her daughter, she told me someone gave her daughter a flier in a tavern and then she ran off to the Felicity Wilds.” 

So it _was_ on a case, that’s--well it’s not comforting but it explains a little bit of why Angus ended up here. Johann’s voice is soft, tinny in the way it squeaks as he tries to sound as gentle and comforting as he’s able, “Did you see her on the billboards?” 

Angus nods, hair rustling against Johann’s arm. Slowly, Johann readjusts himself, so Angus is less in his lap and more nestled against his side. The little boy offers no protests and though Johann can’t help but make a face at the dried blood that flakes off the boy’s clothes onto his own he still rests his arm over his shoulder. Angus practically buries his face in Johann's side and the half-elf just barely hears him whisper, "I-I found her but--but she's not coming back." 

Johann’s eyes widen, and he stares down at the boy’s bloodied shirt with a new sense of horror, “ _ Fuck _ .” 

Angus’ noise of affirmation is muffled by Johann’s shirt but the way his body trembles makes the half-elf wrap his arm a little tighter around the human. Fuck--He’s the adult in this situation, he has to figure out what to  _ do.  _ Johann finally takes a moment to scan his surroundings, the bed they're on is huge for one, easily three times bigger than his little twin bunk back at the moon base. The rest of the room is just as utterly ridiculous, the walls stark white with gaudy gold trim contrasted by eye-searingly bright furniture. The most baffling objects in the room--and probably horrifying if Johann lets himself  _ think _ about it-- are the children's toys scattered about. 

Puzzles, stuffed animals, kids books with bright covers, board games, just more toys than Johann has ever seen in his entire  _ life _ . All of them scattered across the room, some like they’d been abandoned mid-play in a way that makes Johann’s stomach drop. There are more stuffed animals on the bed surrounding them but these seem less pristine, a dragon and a teddy owlbears that make him squint slightly. 

His eyes are drawn almost unwillingly to one particular toy, dingier than all the rest, practically falling apart with age. A little ragdoll lays on the bedside table, and the clothes it wears send a shiver down Johann’s spine--They’re  _ his _ clothes, or rather, not quite his but so reminiscent to the original design he’d given the Bureau’s tailor when The Director had insisted he pick his own uniform it's downright eerie. 

He tears his eyes away to shift his focus back onto the literal child close to tears nestled into his side.  _ Priorities _ , he reminds himself as he rubs a soothing hand up and down Angus’ back. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the _fuck_ is he going to do? 

The half-elf takes a deep breath, with his free hand he runs his fingers through his hair. He lost his hat at some point in this whole mess and now there’s nothing keeping his hair from getting in his face. It’s annoying as hell and if he’s going to have to fight he’ll need to do something about it.  _ Fuck.  _

“Okay, Angus, well we know we’re in Wonderland, even if we don't know what's in here. I don’t have my violin or my harp but that only means my spells will be a little trickier to cast but not, like, impossible,” Johann frowns but brushes away the momentary worry, he’d worked with less and worse before the Bureau had started paying his bills, “Do you have your wand?” 

Angus’ trembling stops completely and Johann is worried he’s fainted or something before he feels the boy shake his head against his side, “They--They took it away, sir.” 

Johann’s entire mind sort of short-circuits for a moment--He had forgotten. They’re not just trapped in fucked up fantasy cirque du soleil they’re trapped by those two elves. They were so damn _familiar_ \--The thought of them makes his chest ache but he can’t focus on that right now. He has to focus on getting Angus and himself the _ fuck _ out of this place. 

“Lydia and Edward, yeah. We’ll--We’ll have to sneak past them.” 

Angus lifts his head up, and really _looks_ at Johann for the first time since the half-elf woke up. The boy's eyes narrow slightly, “They told you their names, sir?” 

The air catches in his throat because he’s been ignoring that fact before, pressing it down and down because he’s had bigger priorities. Now, actually confronted by Angus he swallows, trying desperately to clear the lump forming in his throat. 

“No. No, they  _ didn’t _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a breather chapter, all things considered.


	4. Crawling

“Okay, we’ve gotta figure out an exit strategy.” Johann pats himself down as he speaks, taking stock of what the twins had taken and what he was left with. His violin is nowhere in sight and his harp has been taken as well. He still has his kalimba hidden away in one of the hidden pockets of his pants but he wants to _keep_ that hidden. He doesn’t have the best singing voice, nothing to write home about, but he’s decent enough on a technical level to manage spells. 

Gods, he’s glad The Director made him take those vocal lessons, another weapon in his arsenal she’d said at the time. Now Johann’s pretty sure he’s gonna write her a damn symphony in thanks as soon as he gets them back. 

Angus doesn’t move though, he’s just staring up at Johann, eyes still narrowed, “Sir, who do _we_ work for?” 

Johann blinks, confused at the sudden hostility in Angus’ voice “What? We work for the Bureau, or like, The Director I guess. Angus, come on, we’ve got other things to focus on” 

The little boy practically deflates and in a moment he’s got his arms wrapped around Johann’s middle again, “Good, it’s really _you_ , I-I was really scared for a second there.” 

Johann’s a little stunned for a second before he starts to scramble onto his feet, hauling Angus up with him. “Okay, okay that’s fair, yeah,” He sets down Angus and soft of just, ruffles his hair but he’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort himself or the boy, “They’ve got some kind of magic, I think it was that weird ass amulet, enchantment or something. I think it’s affecting me but I don’t really know for sure.”

“Th-That amulet was--They told me what it was--well, they talked about it while I pretended to be unconscious. It’s a summoning charm.”

That little nugget of information ricochets around Johann’s brain as he splutters, “Summoning? Who the fuck would want to summon me? No one even knows who I am.”

There’s a beat of silence interrupted by the click of polished shoes against the room’s cold tile floor. Johann startles, practically throwing himself in front of Angus as he spins on heel to face the intruders. What he sees are the twins, dressed in what he knows they must consider casual clothing compared to what he saw them in before. It’s still completely and utterly ostentatious in nature, matching robes with great flowing trains that drag behind them like a miasma, Lydia’s sequinned while Edward’s is trimmed with bright gold fur.

They’re both grinning wide and striding forward with an easy, relaxed gait. Lydia laughs, high and trilling, “Of course we know who you are, you’re our little brother!” 

Something in Johann’s brain sort of stutters to a halt, like jammed gears in a clock. He blinks at the two imposing figures, they’re both taller than him even without their heels on. Something, a flash in his mind, feels like they should be towering but somehow they’re _smaller_. The Director is taller than they are, he thinks. That’s a comforting thought and Johann will be damned if he understands _why_. 

With one arm reaching back, he clutches at Angus’ shoulder ready to pivot the boy to better shield his small human body with Johann’s own half-elven figure if necessary. Somehow, he’s certain the two won’t go after him but almost instinctively he knows that Angus is fair game, “Uh, listen, you’ve got the wrong guy--” 

“Our magic _can’t_ be wrong, Keats. It’s powered by the most powerful necromatic item on this plane.” 

A grand relic, Johann realizes with a jolt, these two have a _grand relic_. Gods, he and Angus are so _fucked_. Johann takes a deep breath and purses his lips but before he can start his spell, he watches in horror as Edward snaps and a wash of magic flows over his person. 

When he tries to whistle no sound comes out.

“We know you’re confused right now but none of that, dear.” 

Johann’s free hand flies to this throat and he can feel his vocal cords strain as he yelps but no sound comes out. In a moment of panic his hands move to Angus, he brushes his hands against the boy’s shoulder and his own sag in relief as he hears sound accompanying the movement. He mouths _‘Trust me,’_ before his fingers move in a staccato rhythm beat against the boy’s arm. 

Magic washes over the two of them and Johann’s arm encircles Angus’ waist as a thunderwave flows out around them. Lydia and Edward’s eyes widen in shock as they’re pushed back and Johann wastes absolutely no time lifting Angus up on his hip and just booking it to the other side of the room, releasing a stream of silenced curses all the while. 

 _A door_ , he thinks desperately, _there has to be a door._

“ _Keats!_ ” 

The shout from behind him sends a shiver down Johann’s spine, gods Edward sounds so _angry_ \--He should apologize before it gets worse, before Lydia joins in on the rage. One of them he can handle, he can diffuse a situation if he has to but both of their cold, calculating stares turned on his back? 

Johann holds Angus closer, fuck he has Angus to protect what the fuck is he going to do? He can feel Angus squirming as he tries to escape the half-elfs grip but Johann just shakes his head. Instead of setting the boy down Johann just shifts him, so he’s carrying him piggyback style, freeing up one of Angus’ arms holding his wand and one of Johann’s to tap away drum beats. 

Would dimension door work? Would it just end up with them crushed by a wall? Gods damnit, there has to be _something_. 

“ _Keats!_ Don’t you turn away from us!” 

He about to run again when his limbs tense and fire spreads through his chest. A silent shriek tears out of his throat and he stumbles forward dropping heavily to the ground. Angus scrambles off him and begins desperately shaking his arm, “Sir! Johann?! What happened?”

Johann chokes on his own spit as he writhes in pain. Black fire swirls in his vision, lighting up his limbs with pure agony. He can just barely feel Angus’ small hands cradling his head as he screams soundlessly. Again and again jolts of pain sear through his body, when the pain finally settles to a dull throb he’s panting heavily.

He sees trailing robes, out of the corner of his eye before Angus folds his tiny body over Johann’s. Shielding him now with the same ferocity that Johann had shown him just moments before. “Stay away from him, you bullies!” 

Johann tries to speak, beg Angus to get back because if these two are giving _him_ trouble, as much as he knows Angus is a competent young wizard--He’s just so _little_. Johann’s fingers spasm, too much for him to rap out a competent rhythm. With jerky movements and noiseless groans, he pushes himself up again, settling one hand against his chest and the other on Angus’ head. 

He ignores the boy’s objections as he pulls the child protectively into his side, and glares up at the twins. They saunter closer, their expressions clouded somewhere between anger and disappointment. Clasped in Edward’s hand is the amulet glimmering with black magic. 

“Keats, why did you make us _do_ that? You know we would never hurt you, but you gave us no choice.” 

Johann’s eyes narrow, he flexes his fingers as he waits for them to stop trembling then takes a deep breath and spits at their feet. They've stolen his voice but it doesn't stop him from mouthing, _"Get Fucked."_

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to apologize to anyone who knows how vogueing or violins work because I sure fucking don't. Anyway, he's the Johann hit fic that the taz writers discord has encouraged me to make. Have any questions? Hit me up on bopeepwritingsheep over on tumblr. You'll even be able to read the original braindump that became this fic, though be careful of spoilers if thats the kind of thing you care about.
> 
> The title is taken from the Amanda Palmer song "Runs In The Family"


End file.
